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My Pain! Let me show you them!

I gotta tell you, the idea of putting my every ache and pain out here for everyone to see is kind of a daunting prospect, something I wouldn’t even consider if not for:

1. doctor’s orders
2. I’ve already started it and it’s not as bad as I feared
3. it’s cathartic

Once I’d started, it just felt good to get it out somewhere and to do it in a way where I didn’t have to tell anyone, face to face. Where I didn’t have to water down how awful I felt on a regular basis. Where I didn’t have to repeat over and over why I was in pain in the first place and that yeah, something should have been done about it by now, and no, I couldn’t work.

When I think about it, this has been one of the more helpful things any doctor has ever suggested for me and it didn’t cost a thing.

In writing this blog, I’ll be posting entries every day. They’ll usually be short. If, in reading, you realize that hey! I’m in pain every freaking day! Welcome to my life I’m not a person that moans about stuff in real life. Maybe that’s why I need it here. Not so much the moaning but the relating. Just getting it out there. I won’t be going into specifics, like treatment, other than in big broad strokes, and I won’t be naming names.

Hopefully, in time, this will get better, but if not, I’ve got somewhere to complain about it. Sometimes that makes not complaining about it everywhere else a lot easier to do.

A bit of history:

So, what the hell did I do to myself to bring me to such a sorry state?

I wish it was an exciting tale, with ninjas and rabid monkeys, but in this, like so many other things in real life, it was dumb. I moved a box. It wasn’t a ticking time bomb or a crate of nuclear explosives, just a big stupid box with books. I lifted it here. Twisted – that twisted is the important part – and moved it there. Repeated it a few hundred times for good measure because you just know I wasn’t about to do something smart like STOP moving those boxes. Didn’t even have the good common sense to do it at work. Nope, just a regular house move, like those people manage to do day in and day out. And yes, I’ve pretty much gotten out of moving duty, no complaints there.

I guess I had it coming, or should have known. I was already seeing a physio guy for a shredded (yes, that’s the work he used, yummy, eh?) abdominal muscle, something that came about from an earlier operation and scar tissue that went haywire. If this is starting to sound like that ‘house that Jack built’ thing, yeah, it’s kind of like that. All this stuff came together in a perfect storm and boom! Next thing you know, here I am 3 years later writing to you. So what it is? Messed up spine. Blaargh.

Anyway, here begins my Tale of Woe!